


machineries

by spookykingdomstarlight



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: 5 Times, Developing Friendships, M/M, POV Outsider, Police, Politics, Post-Peaceful Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-05 05:02:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20483297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookykingdomstarlight/pseuds/spookykingdomstarlight
Summary: It’s Markus she’s worried about. He finds shit to believe in everywhere he goes and about everyone he meets. There’s no reason for him to waste his time with Connor when Connor doesn’t even want to be here. But this is what Markus does. He gets attached.





	machineries

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pt_tucker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pt_tucker/gifts).

**Church**

Markus approaches her from across the ruins, barely a church at this point, but the only safe haven they have left. The others murmur quietly to one another, giving voice to their worries, feeding into the tension that already permeates the room. It’s cold in here, objectively speaking, but North cannot feel it. The information registers as barely a blip, not even an alarm yet, indicating that her biocomponents might function at less than optimal standards if the temperature falls much further.

That fact hardly matters to her: tomorrow, they’ll face much worse conditions and ones she fully expects she won’t survive. She will follow Markus into hell, but she doesn’t see how they’ll find a way back out of it. And that’s okay. She’s just glad they’re finally taking action.

“What are you going to do with him?” North asks, nodding toward the deviant hunter hunched in on himself in the far corner of the room. He has a name and a model number, she knows, but she chooses not to acknowledge either. She prefers to face the truth of things. Hunting deviants is what he does and who he is. When Markus sits beside her, sighing, and says nothing, she worries that she’s not going to like the answer. The fact that he’s not under armed guard already explains Markus’s point of view perfectly well, but she wants to hear it from him, wants to be convinced. He’d saved their lives back in Jericho and that’s the only reason North isn’t ripping him limb from limb for the horror he’s visited upon them all for the last three months.

“He’s with us,” Markus says finally. “I’m not going to _do_ anything with him or to him. He’s decided to infiltrate CyberLife while we…”

The urge to scream claws its way through her, tearing her to shreds inside. Send him back to his masters? What a great idea when they have no way to tell if he’s truly deviated or if he’s pretending just to gain their trust. He’s different than they are and his programming is sophisticated in ways that none of them understand yet. He could be a plant. He could be anything. But there’s apparently little point in arguing that fact now.

She comforts herself with the knowledge that they’re most likely screwed no matter what happens. If he screws them just a little bit harder, it won’t leave them any more or less destroyed than they already will be. ”While we what, Markus? What are we doing?”

Markus says nothing again for a long moment. “I don’t know.”

North frowns. If they were alone, she might have shoved him, pushed for a better answer, demanded that he figure it the fuck out. The people around her dissuade her from that path. She trusts Markus, but their relationship is different than the relationship he shares with the others. Pushing back when they’re alone is one thing. Pushing back now, when they’re so close to disaster is another thing entirely. That doesn’t mean she likes any of this, doesn’t mean she wants Markus to be this uncertain of his course so late in the game. If he doesn’t believe in them, how is anyone else going to?

She looks past Markus for a moment and her gaze catches the deviant hunter’s. His attention flicks away almost immediately, but not before she can see the regret that wells in them.

It’s an act, gotta be, but it strikes her anyway.

And even this cannot break her belief in Markus. That means something. It has to.

“Whatever you decide,” she says, certain enough for the both of them, “we’re with you.”

Markus nods at her and his shoulders slump and they talk for a few more minutes about what happened, how she’s doing, how the others are doing. It’s a nice enough way to pass the time. And then he’s gone, approaching the rest of their people, offering kindnesses here, brief touches there. His resolve solidifies as North watches his progress.

She isn’t surprised when he tells them they will be throwing themselves at humankind’s mercy in the morning, though she is disappointed.

When he steps down from the dais into a crowd that breaks with relief around him, she doesn’t tell him as much. He’s already got enough on his plate and she’s not the type to take back her support, not with him, not after what he’s done for them all. No matter what happens, she can’t regret what they’ve done.

Even if they die tomorrow, it’ll better than the lives they led before.

**Speech**

Markus speaks to their people with certainty in his voice. Hope fills his words, buoys up the crowd that stands before them. Simon and Josh exchanges incredulous looks with one another. At least Simon is incredulous. Josh is smiling with knowing pride. He’s advocated this path for so long and his certitude has borne out. In the face of Simon’s ambivalence and North’s outright disdain, he’s the one who’s been proved correct today.

North is happier than she cares to admit.

Things will be complicated going forward, none of them would argue that. Even if North had been right, it would be complicated. Or Simon. Or any of them. That’s okay, she thinks, because this is more than she ever expected even if she hadn’t ever expected to get it this way.

They won. They have won. And no matter how much work remains ahead of them, nobody can take that away from them.

Even Connor stepped up, did his part, enough of one that she’s willing to stop thinking of him only as the deviant hunter. He’s here, too, which she appreciates less. When she looks his way, he’s staring at the ground, his hands clenched into fists. His LED blinks and flickers. She can’t see his eyes through the lowered fringe of his eyelashes. It doesn’t surprise her that he’s conflicted.

Whatever. She’ll keep her eye on him just in case, but even she can only feel so much paranoia before she thinks it’s too much, too. If CyberLife was in any position to do anything to them, they’d have done it by now and they’d have used Connor to do it. They’ve lost, and, more than that, the humans seem to consider them people now. Or are willing to consider the possibility.

And in the grand scheme of things, Connor is nothing to her now, neither a threat nor a friend. Just a person she might have to put up with sometimes. Maybe. On days when she’s very unlucky.

A crowd forms around Markus after his remarks and he makes time for as many of the individuals as he can find, the rest of them trailing behind him, North first, followed by Simon and Josh, and Connor last of all. Priority is given, by the unspoken rule of the carefully controlled mob, to those who’d been held hostage by the city, those they’d demonstrated for. There are far more of them than North can handle. Her throat closes around her fury, keeps it bottled up.

She has to remind herself that they won.

Her eyes, again, find Connor’s. _This is what happens_, she thinks, certain that he can understand the gist of her meaning even without direct communication. She holds his gaze and isn’t at all surprised when he flinches first.

Once they are done, it’s just the five of them left. The rest have gone off to celebrate in whatever way they see fit. North suspects it’s the last time in a long while that they’ll all have such freedom. In the morning, they’ll be left with the aftermath, the careful restructuring of the relationships between humans and androids.

Markus is incandescent, his eyes gleaming in the fading light. Most had removed their LEDs to emulate him, but if it was still there, she thinks it would be spinning a wild, breathless blue. His lips form around the biggest smile she’s ever seen on his face and he looks beautiful like this, just as carefree as they all should be allowed to look. He’s gotten handsy, clapping Josh and Simon on the shoulders and pulling Connor into an awkward hug. His mouth skims across North’s cheek in a gentle, friendly kiss. She squeezes his arm in turn and offers him her own smile.

He’s earned this, even if North thinks it’s a bit much for the first step on an impossibly long road.

“There’s going to be an increased police presence throughout the city tonight,” Connor says, voice distant. She can’t tell if he’s just behaving a bit strangely or he’s just too focused on the police frequency he’s tapped into. For all she knows, he’s having a conversation with someone on the other end, attention split.

North is not surprised, just disappointed that even now his mind is half with the humans they’ve had to force. That is, she thinks, one of the unifying themes of her life.

She hates that he’s put a damper on Markus’s spirit. Because at his words, Markus’s relief is almost immediately swapped for troubled concern. It’s like watching a candle being snuffed out. Only curling smoke remains behind to indicate it had been lit at all. “Do you think there’s going to be a problem?”

“I’ll have to check in with Lieutenant Anderson.” Connor shrugs, useless. “He’s already asked me to meet him. I should be going.”

“You’re not going to celebrate?” Markus asks.

“No, I don’t think so.” Connor’s eyes widen and he looks away. His LED turns a sluggish yellow, but she doesn’t think Markus can see it from his vantage point. She doesn’t know him at all, but she can see when somebody is already retreating and Connor’s halfway across the city in mind if not in body. Of course he’d pick a human over them. Better to know that now than before they get attached. “This isn’t my victory.”

Not that North is in any danger of getting attached. It’s Markus she’s worried about. He finds shit to believe in everywhere he goes and about everyone he meets. There’s no reason for him to waste his time with Connor when Connor doesn’t even want to be here. But this is what Markus does. He gets attached.

Markus opens his mouth as though to argue and then closes it again, an inscrutable look crossing his face.

Connor doesn’t seem to notice, which just pisses North off even more. The least he could do is acknowledge what’s happening around him. Instead, he pulls his shoulders back until his posture is impossibly straight. “I’ll let you know if there are any problems,” he says. “I’ll do what I can to make sure…”

None of them want to think too much about the possibilities. None of them are good.

Waving him off, Markus nods. “I get it.”

But for one night, North will hope for the best and let someone else handle it. Even if it is Connor. It’s not that she trusts Connor, but sometimes even she has to let go of things. Tonight seems like the ideal night.

It might be the only night she’ll be able to.

**Demonstration**

Given the success of the first demonstration, none of them are surprised by the proliferation of more. They happen for any reason and every reason. Demonstrations, counter-demonstrations, demonstrations in solidarity of other demonstrations. Androids aren’t like humans; they’re still working out that they can even do things like this and they take to it with some alacrity. They tend to be small, except when Markus puts his stamp of approval on them and attends, and the humans tend to look on with trepidation no matter what their size.

Some of them march with them, but North keeps her mouth shut on that score.

She’d rather focus her attention on the humans she needs to worry about. The angry, unpleasantly red-faced assholes who seem intent to catch them out and either sic the police on them or start shit on their own. They are young and old alike, but they are all mad at androids for existing.

And they are everywhere.

She skulks around the perimeter of the demonstrators at today’s event, generally keeping to herself and projecting a do-not-fuck-with-me attitude whenever she sees anybody who looks like they want to get into it. She’s become known on both sides as Markus’s enforcer and even the police give her a reasonably wide berth, the ones who don’t glare at her resentfully for making them do their job anyway.

Everything’s going well today—or well enough that she thinks she might be able to relax for once. There’s the usual boiling frustrations, but everyone’s keeping their cool for the most part. She continues walking, almost enjoying the exercise, the sense of purpose, the casual way that nobody goes out of their way to bother her.

Markus is somewhere, Simon and Josh and a couple of bodyguards in tow, one of whom checks in with her at regular intervals. Markus is here. Then he’s there. Then he’s way over there. She imagines him drifting from place to place, pulled by the tides of people around him. It’s not hard to imagine, too, the look of satisfaction on his face as he works the crowd.

Everything is going well until she hears a shout and the telltale scuffles of an altercation, close enough that she can make out the number of participants by sound alone. A nearby cop groans and wanders toward the noise as North shoves past him. He reaches the scene about half a minute after North, an eternity by her own standards, and he’s utterly useless, hanging back with his hand on the radio transceiver hooked to his uniform.

It’s three men and Connor between them, two on one side, the third on the other. He’s got his hands extended both ways and he’s splitting his attention between them. The pair is clearly here to cause trouble, while the single figure is an android who’s got a lot of courage if he’s willing to go up against the black-clad figures, their shirts spray painted in red with the latest symbol humans are using to remind androids of their place. Theirs are inelegantly drawn, which makes North think they might have been too radical even for the organization they originally wanted to join.

Her fists clench at her sides and her teeth are gritted as she steps forward. “Hey,” she says, quiet, to the android doing his best to taunt the two assholes from behind Connor’s back. “Why don’t we take a step back here?”

It’s not that she doesn’t trust Connor to handle it, but she doesn’t particularly trust Connor to handle it well or with any degree of fairness toward the android involved. There’s a lot of chatter among androids about how little the police department cares about their concerns. On multiple occasions, they’ve brought those concerns to Connor, who claims he forwards them to his superiors.

Nothing has changed from within. It’s only ever been pressure from the outside that’s led to any improvements. The time Markus spends in courtrooms testifying is, on the average day, more useful than anything Connor’s ever done.

The android tries to fight her, but she’s stronger and drags him back out of the way. “Find someone else to piss off,” she suggests. “Like the people who actually can do something about this crap world we’re living in. These assholes aren’t worth it.”

“But they said—”

“I don’t care,” she snaps and it’s for his own good, she knows, but she hates saying it anyway, hates suggesting that he let these goons get away with their bullshit even for a few minutes, even just to keep the android safe. He stares at her with contempt, lumps her in with the police and Connor and everyone who’s ever kept him down and she hates that, too. She’s not like them; she just doesn’t want this idiot getting hurt. “It’s being handled.”

She doesn’t disagree with the android when he scoffs, but it rankles all the same, not only because the android isn’t listening to her, but because Connor is actually confronting those guys. She doesn’t like the guy either, but he is in their faces right now, the first who’ll end up getting a fist to the face or worse should they decide to strike. He is, out of all of his cohorts, actually doing something.

The android finally raises his hands and backs off. He’s one of the ones who has, at some point, ripped the LED from their temple, so North has no way to gauge the amount of stress he’s in without actively invading his privacy, but she’d say it’s probably good odds it’s high. He flips her off and shouts, “Fuck you,” and knowing that it will only make things worse is the only reason she doesn’t go a round with him. “Fucking Traci.”

“Oh, that’s—” She’s certain her own LED is blazing red now, but she doesn’t care. She’s halfway to launching herself at him before she knows it and is stopped only by an arm looped around hers. “Let go of me, you—”

“Easy,” and it’s Connor yelling at her, no, not yelling, though it was easy to assume otherwise from the commanding tone of his voice. “Easy, North.”

That moment of distraction is enough for the android to melt into the crowd, lost to her, and North is so angry, that anger crowding her mouth with words, pitching her hands at Connor’s face to—to…

There’s already a mark on his skin, fading, leaving behind only the scuff of blue that will also fade. Behind him, the two jackasses he’d been working with are subdued on the ground, the other cops stepping in to haul them away, nobody happy as they shout and argue with one another. “Hands off, man. You can’t do this. Where’s your fucking pride?” one of them yells as the cops snicker and pull them away. They throw every name in the book at the cops as they go, but someone must’ve given them some training, because they ignore it or, worse for the guys, laugh.

“Didn’t you know our android detective over there’s got a crush on that Markus guy?” the cop asks, a rhetorical question if ever there was one. The possibility is ridiculous. “You really oughta’ve laid off this one.”

Connor’s jaw clenches and his LED flickers.

“They hit you?” North asks, affronted, like she wasn’t going to do the same thing only a moment ago. The rest has nothing to do with her and is probably wrong besides.

“It’s fine,” Connor answers. “Not that unusual, if I’m being honest. Lieutenant Anderson likes to say it’s because I have such a punchable face.” He gives her a tight-lipped smile and nods toward the crowd. North doesn’t think the joke is funny, but she can hear the fondness in his voice and decides to focus her derision on the fact that he’s so fond of a human. It isn’t like Lieutenant Anderson’s wrong. “I’m sure you wouldn’t disagree. Thanks for the help. I’m, uh… sorry about what he said.”

Oh. Great. So he’d heard that, too. Wonderful. “Whatever,” she answers, turning away and crossing her arms. It’s not the first time she’s had that thrown in her face. It won’t be the last. She hates that Connor was here to witness it, but that’s all. Or so she tells herself. “You gonna throw the book at them?”

“I’ll do what I can,” Connor offers, hesitant, like he doesn’t want to disappoint her, but has the historical data to understand he’ll probably do just that by existing. Instead of arguing, she just nods, exhausted and sick at heart. She’s tired of this. All of it. Those guys’ll get off with a slap on the wrist and go right back to harassing androids for living until someone ends up in jail or dead.

“I don’t know how Markus does it,” she admits, hating herself for sharing this with Connor. But there’s no one else around who she can say these things to. Connor probably isn’t the right person to confess to either, but he keeps his mouth shut, standing next to her in total silence for long enough that she thinks she’s made the right choice and they’ll both pretend this hasn’t happened.

“He can do it because he knows he has people like you to watch his back,” Connor says finally.

She doesn’t tell him that it doesn’t feel that way and she can’t tell him that it means something to her that he says it anyway.

When he steps away, it’s a relief, but less of one than it might have been before today.

**Testimony**

She’s only watching the coverage on television, Simon at her side and the room around her tense. He’s focused entirely on the inside of his own mind, scrolling social media feeds and being of little use to her as he prepares a vast selection of press releases for Markus to choose from once the decision comes down. It’s mayhem at the courthouse as far as she can tell from the coverage. News trickles out only in drips and drabs, court reporter hearsay and journalistic shorthand, and hasty courtroom sketches because the whole place is under blackout, no photography, no recording, no nothing from inside gets leaked out until the opportune moment.

Her hands cover her mouth and she hates that she’s not there, hates even more that Markus can’t be there though he wants to be. They’d all made this decision, but none of them like it.

Markus is pacing toward the back of the room and Josh is in another far corner, his arms wrapped around his midsection as he watches. They’ve all reached their own conclusions, all have different opinions about just what it is Connor’s doing here. Simon is just about the only one who’s been able to remain neutral about the whole thing. And Josh is the only one who seems remotely happy with it, and happy still isn’t the word North would use to describe it. She just doesn’t have a better one. Grimly glad that the rule of law is prevailing even though it’s running counter to their best interests maybe. Josh would rather see the world burn with injustice than earn their safety by more violent means.

The law is unfair and it is on the side of humans and Connor’s let himself get caught up in it. They’d talked the topic into the ground when it first came up, most of them trying to argue that it didn’t have to be Connor doing this.

But the pressure from his superiors was greater and in the end they were the ones who won.

Connor was never going to duck from his duties, even when those duties would condemn an android to whatever form of punishment the human majority jury decides to dole out.

The first case against an android to be tried in the entire world was always going to be a shit show. None of them knew the shit show was going to fall so directly into their laps.

Connor’s already submitted his evidence. Androids aren’t yet, by law, required to come before the court. It’s entirely optics that brought him there today and the press, as expected, fell for it entirely. It looks better for the police department.

Josh had argued that Connor would prove that they’re trustworthy to the world at large if an android is shown to be arguing the guilt of another android, prove that their as unbiased as humans. Markus had pointed out that the humans arguing against the defendant don’t need any further help from Connor in getting their conviction.

Josh had won.

North, honestly, had just wanted to slap Connor for being such a fucking puppet.

“I don’t like this,” North says, shaking her head, but that’s not quite true. There’s so much about this that she hates. The circus of it, the smug way the police are strutting about, the cries for android blood. And there’s not a damned thing any of them can do about it now. The android will be convicted—there’s an abundance of evidence against him, enough that Connor’s walked around, haunted-eyed and tight-lipped the whole time this case has been in the spotlight—and the world will be further justified in believing that androids aren’t human.

As though humans haven’t done the same terrible shit to one another for far, far longer than androids have ever been around.

Markus says nothing at all in response to her. And that just makes her angry, too.

The judgment comes back, quick as anything. Guilty, of course, for crimes of excessive violence. The punishment: solitary confinement, no time frame after which the android can be paroled, a life sentence.

But what is a life sentence to an android?

Suddenly the reporters are shouting excitedly and pushing toward the front of the courthouse as people spill from inside. Most of them are looking for Connor. It’s easy to tell from the way none of them linger too long with the nearest human they can find for comment, no matter how self-important and puffed up they make themselves out to be.

But Connor doesn’t come out. There’s some speculation from commentators as to why, of course. The press likes nothing more than to pierce the truth and draw as much poisonous drama from it as possible. The coverage continues, unabated, as ‘experts’ argue about what this means for the rule of law going forward, what sort of precedents this will set.

North has no reason to feel like the jaws of an alligator are closing around her throat—there’s no doubt in anyone’s mind that the android was… is guilty—but she can’t shake the sensation. The teeth of human justice rip at her flesh, confine her in fresh ways.

Markus leaves the room, stoic, stiff, nearly silent except for the sound of his boots against the carpeted floor, even more disappointed looking than North had expected. She doesn’t follow him, though both Simon and Josh look her way for guidance, stare expectantly at the door. But this doesn’t involve her and she’s smart enough to know her presence and words will only make things worse.

Besides, she’s concerned with how badly Markus is taking it, hadn’t thought to expect he’d shut down like that.

At the very heart of it, she still can’t understand why Connor keeps picking humans over his own people. If he hadn’t, he never would have been in this position, never would have become some kind of human-safe authority on which androids are and are not dangers to the humans around them. Those humans aren’t on the television eager to see him because he’s a good guy.

They’re eager to see him because he can confirm the worst about androids for them.

Later, Markus makes a few remarks, close to desultory, definitely disappointed, that get uploaded to the Internet and spread wide. The local news broadcasters fail to air it and anybody who cares to know what androids think about this development have to hunt their social media feeds for the footage. It’s not his best speech—North can tell his heart’s not in it as he calls for unity, asserts that the rule of law is for everyone and today is the perfect signal of that fact—but it’s probably not going to go down in history as his worse.

Though North half-expects Connor to show up at the office, he doesn’t.

She tries not to read anything into it, but she’s always had a hard time not assuming the worst. If he makes himself seem guilty, that’s on him. It’s not her fault she comes to the same conclusion when there’s nothing else to go on.

**Wounded Pride**

The police presence is limited today, practically nonexistent, for reasons that North doesn’t quite understand, but appreciates anyway. Things always seem a little tenser when they’re around and she’s glad that, for once, she doesn’t have to keep an eye out on them, too. They’ve got their own security for this event and Connor, to North’s utter lack of surprise, is acting a little twitchy about it.

As much as North would like to ignore it, she can’t. “What’s your problem?” she asks as he skulks around the perimeter, watchful. She can’t tell if he’s off-duty or plainclothes just by looking at him and that’s annoying, too. She knows already that he’s not on-duty now. Why does he still have to look so much like a cop? “You could relax, you know.”

It makes her feel as though he doesn’t trust her to do her job.

“Have you ever known me to relax?” Connor answers, whip-quick and sullen, which is a bit strange, but she chalks that up to Connor being Connor. He’s gotten moodier of late, brooding. More than once, he’s snapped even at Markus, something she never would have thought possible in the early days. Those moments are always awkward since none of them know what to do with them. It’s a battle being played out between Connor and Markus alone and both of them remain otherwise silent on the conflict.

North thinks it goes all the way back to the trial or maybe before that, but she can’t be sure and she won’t ask as much as she’d like to knock some sense into them.

“Fair point,” North answers, a bright smile on her mouth, her fuck-you-very-much smile. “Just maybe try to enjoy yourself, huh? That’s the point of things like this, isn’t it?”

Connor’s eyes narrow and he looks away. “I really wouldn’t know.”

She’s pleased with how quickly she’s annoyed him. It serves him right for acting like an asshole.

She shouldn’t get involved in whatever it is that’s got him behaving like a dick, but she gets a sinking feeling in her chest that something is bound to go very wrong today as a result. Or something already has. Like Connor’s some kind of dickish canary in the mine. Generally, she’s not given to moments of deep intuition. The present troubles her too much, eats up all of her attention, and the only real insight she has about the future is that it’s always going to suck.

“Seriously—” Because North’s the one who’s in charge here. If he knows something that she doesn’t, she needs to know.

“Will you excuse me?” he asks, vaguely unpleasant, but not quite as unhappy as before. Stepping past her, he turns. His hands swipe across his thighs in a nervous gesture. “The event is fine, North. Your people are doing a good job. My problem has nothing to do with you.”

“You couldn’t possibly know that’s what I was going to ask.”

Connor’s brow lifts and his mouth thins, giving him an expectant, unimpressed look. The fact that he’s right is immaterial.

On rare occasions, she forgets he still has all the skills CyberLife programmed into him and she hates the reminder, hates even more that he’s using them now. On her.

He’s quick, already moving on from this conversation.

“So what is your problem anyway?” she calls after him, curious, perhaps morbidly so.

He smiles at her and it’s almost angelic for how innocent it looks. That’s how she knows it for the insouciantly polite lie it is. “That’s not even a little bit your business.”

And that’s true enough. She doesn’t have a good answer for why she wants to know. In the past, she might have continued pestering him about it, let it get under her skin that he’s hiding something and demand an answer. Maybe she’s grown as a person.

She follows Connor’s progress through the crowd as he offers more genuine smiles to the people he passes. Some of them are pleased by the attention, some indifferent. Most of them continue watching Connor as he goes.

It seems obvious enough that he’s trying to reach Markus, who’s got a group of people arrayed around him on the other side of the room, a veritable person-shaped wall separating Markus from the rest of the room. North can tell, even from here, that he’s unhappy and she’s pleased, somewhere deep down inside, that Connor’s taking it upon himself to disrupt the group who’s making him unhappy. Even from this distance, she can see the relief in Markus’s eyes, something fragile, almost like hope, glinting differently in each, one bright and one a bit darker. There’s a smile growing on his mouth, too, the kind that a few of the more daring magazine sites call dashing at a time when it’s still not entirely appropriate to express attraction to androids, no one yet sure where new lines can and should be drawn.

She doesn’t hear Markus say his apologies to the others, though she could adjust her auditory processors if she wanted to. It’s clear enough from the way he takes a few tentative steps and twists before pushing between the pair with the most distance between them. He says something to one and laughs, loud enough to be audible to her and a little bit fake and showy show. Few people seem to realize it’s not real and all of them think he’s laughing only for them.

It’s only once Markus looks at Connor that the falsehood falls away and reveals the blinding truth. So much of it that North thinks she’s an idiot for having missed what she’s seeing there. That’s not the kind of smile Markus gives to friends or colleagues, not even the closest of them.

North could make a lot of assumptions, but there’s really only one that fits.

And she’s furious at Connor for not seeming to notice. All this time. This can’t be the first time it’s happened, but looking at Connor, you wouldn’t know that Markus felt anything for him.

She wants to cross the room, pull Connor aside, make him fess up to something, keep Markus from walking into anything that’ll make him unhappy because there’s no way he could have feelings for Connor and not have it end badly for everyone involved. Then they’re close enough to touch and Connor’s leaning in to say something in Markus’s ear, his mouth obscured by the sharp jut of Markus’s cheek and their hands are touching—Connor’s fingers wrapped around Markus’s wrist—and it won’t matter what North has to say, Markus is gone. His eyes widen and he’s just incandescent instead.

She’s not sure how she’s missed this for so long.

And then she feels like she should look away, because Connor’s pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of Markus’s mouth, right here in the open. Even the people who weren’t paying attention are now staring, open mouthed, at the display. Some murmur to one another, loud enough that North can hear them, and she’s not sure she likes all the conversations, filled with surprise and intrigue.

Simon’s going to have a fucking field day or he’s going to throw a fit.

And North’s going to have to get used to the fact that this is what Connor means to Markus. Even if she doesn’t like him. Especially if he doesn’t. She can either not trust him or accept that he hasn’t done anything untrustworthy since he deviated. She doesn’t like some of his decisions, but she hasn’t liked some of the things Josh has suggested either or even Markus himself, sometimes even Simon when she’s feeling particularly disgruntled and his particular brand of neutrality is off-putting to her.

Anybody who can make Markus look at him like that can’t be all bad, whatever their differences.

She swallows and looks away and determines that she’s going to focus on the work and let them have this moment.

**Discipline**

He gets the call five minutes after the end of the event, at least twelve minutes later than he really expects it to come. The lobby is empty around him, everyone still inside, making the most of the last few minutes before the hoard of people attempt to leave.

“Well,” and it’s Hank, which shouldn’t come as much of a surprise as it does, but he’s surprised anyway. Usually Hank’s the last one to hear any gossip and only then because he’s determined to “stay the fuck out of it.” In other words, he doesn’t care. “You certainly picked one way to flaunt the rules.”

There are no rules, Connor knows, but it still grates on him that Hank frames his actions in that way. He knows every law on the books back and forth. Not even the ones concerned with conflicts of interest cover what Connor’s just done. He’s always agreed, up until tonight, to do as the police department wanted. He’s not a puppet, no matter what North thinks, but they’ve always been on the same side before.

Nobody told him it would be a bad idea to express his feelings for the political equivalent of a bomb that lives in their midst, he came to that conclusion himself, thinking he would remain a more effective officer if he stayed objective. It’s not worked very well at all and he’s had enough of it. But he was certainly encouraged, too, by everyone around him who thought it would be a bad idea for the first android police officer and the borderline revolutionary android that nobody can pin down to express their feelings for one another. “Do you have something useful to tell me?” _Like just how mad Fowler’s going to be when he sees the pictures?_

“Nah, I’m proud of you,” Hank answers. “Though you should’ve slapped a lawsuit on them if you really wanted to get to them, but the public declaration was a nice touch. Just the right degree of fuck you.”

Connor fights the urge to roll his eyes. Hank never understood Connor’s reticence when it came to Markus, never understood that they were both concerned about what a public relationship might look to others. But Hank is human and they sometimes get caught up in romantic notions. Hank isn’t immune to that even though he tries to pretend he’s a cynic. “My personal life doesn’t exist to act as a fuck you to the chief of police, Hank.” He smiles after a moment, exasperated and fond. “That’s more your area of expertise.”

“Ha.” Hank laughs and it’s a laugh of agreement if it’s nothing else. Admittedly, Connor feels good about the decision, even though his actions will take on even more scrutiny—why is he doing this, is it at the behest of his boyfriend, will there be a coup attempt within the police department, blah blah blah—than they already get. “Have a good night, Connor. Sounds like it ought to be a good one.”

Before Connor could so much as get a response in, even a goodbye, the line cuts out. Hank’s always been a fan of dramatic conversation stoppers. Sighing, Connor tugs on the hem of his jacket and turns, not at all surprised that Markus is still caught up in chatter with people both he and Connor know he doesn’t like. It’s fine, really, at least until North approaches and catches him watching Markus.

Scrubbing his hand across his mouth, he sets about putting a less ridiculous expression across his face and realizes he hasn’t fooled her a bit when she smirks at him in turn. A smirk is better than a punch in the face, at least, which is what he half expects as she approaches. She’s always been protective of other androids and of Markus in particular and she’s never much liked Connor, not even back when he still tried. Mostly they get by as long as they stay out of one another’s way. “North,” he says, courteous, not in the least hopeful that Markus will swoop in and save him. “So we meet again.”

He’s not trying to charm her and it doesn’t work anyway. Her dubiousness is writ large in the widening of her eyes, the climb her eyebrow takes up her forehead, and the way she crosses her arms before staring at him.

The urge to continue speaking almost compels him to open his mouth and let every stupid defense spill from his lips, but he’s spent enough time with Hank to rein in the urge. It’ll only go badly for him if he doesn’t.

“Were you two ever going to tell me?” she asks before grimacing slightly. Maybe she realizes she’s prying for a second time tonight, though Connor considers it a fair enough question now that he’s done this. Markus had gone back and forth for months trying to decide whether to tell her or not.

“Oh, no, never,” Connor answers. “We fully intended to hide it from everyone forever.”

North, as Connor expects, rolls her eyes, perhaps realizing what a pointless question it is.

He waits for her true concerns to bubble up from somewhere inside of her. They’re bound to come out of her mouth eventually if only he has enough patience to wait her out and she’s never liked being pushed. Connor’s learned that the hard way time and time again. Besides, who knows how long he’ll be waiting here for Markus to finish up?

He’s got the time.

The truth of the matter is: he’s always liked North, even though she doesn’t seem to like him much in return. He’s infinitely grateful that Markus has someone like her to back him up. Even when she doesn’t agree with him, she remains his friend and only ever works toward the betterment of her people. Markus needs to surround himself with individuals like that.

She’s willing to fight, when necessary, and doesn’t fear reprisal from Markus when she does. That is valuable.

And she’s ever herself. Given who Connor is and what he was, he cannot help but admire her for her steadfastness. If they can’t ever be friends or more than uneasy compatriots, he’s glad she’s on Markus’s side.

“You didn’t trust me,” North days and there it is, the thing that’s really bothering her. And the one thing he has no good answer for. It wasn’t his idea, but it wasn’t Markus’s either. They both kind of nebulously decided to keep it personal, keep it private. In truth, he had worried about her reaction. Back before they even started this, he wouldn’t so much as look at Markus for fear that she would figure it out and somehow convince Markus that Connor wasn’t genuine and would only ever be the thing that CyberLife made him to be.

It’s a fear that still plagues Connor from time to time. In a way, he’s glad that North doesn’t fully trust him.

It’s another way she can protect Markus.

“I trust you more than I trust most people,” Connor replies, easier than being specific, harder than scoffing at her for the strange tone of hurt in her voice. He hadn’t expected it to matter to her in the slightest and yet a quick analysis shows that she is, at least moderately, upset about being left out. It’s too late now to go back and change things, but maybe he’ll consider giving her more credit going forward.

And maybe in turn, she’ll do the same.

Over her shoulder, he sees Markus approaching, offering a questioning gesture as he points at North. _How’s she taking it?_

He shrugs in response. It’s certainly a lot better than Connor expected, but he supposes he can’t really say at the moment, not with North looking at him and seeing whatever it is she’s seeing. “What?” he asks.

She squints at him and tilts her head and then looks back at Markus. She must not hate what she sees because she looks back at Connor, considering, for the first time. “You look different,” is all she says, which is unhelpful in the extreme. He can’t see himself at the moment and he doesn’t feel any different now. He considers asking her, but before he can, she keeps talking. “That the first time you ever told the police to fuck off?”

He thinks about the many and varied times he’s done exactly that to Hank and to Gavin and, once, to Fowler himself, though maybe not in so many words. “More like the forty-third, though only a handful actually consisted of those two words. The meaning was, however, well understood, of course.”

Her gaze sharpens even further and there might be something like respect to be found there.

It’s the first time he’s experienced that. At first, he’s not sure he understands it for what it is, but once he realizes…

“Hey,” Markus says, wrapping his arm around North’s shoulder and squeezing lightly. He’s the only one who’d be able to do that and get away with it. Anyone else might just lose their hand for their trouble. Though she’s not looking quite at him, she still seems to catch the air of general concern he’s radiating, because she rolls her eyes and elbows him in the side.

Relief cascades through Connor’s processors.

“I ought to kick your ass,” North says, friendly. To Connor, she says the same, but it’s not quite as friendly. Still, it’s a start. It’s the sort of thing that Connor can live with.

It was, he thinks, a good idea for them to have done this now. Already the weight is lifting from his shoulders at the revelation. It doesn’t matter to him what happens with the police department. If they decide he’s conflicted, well, so be it. They do a lot of good work outside of the police department, too. North and her team is proof enough of that. Perhaps he can…

“You ready to get out of here?” Markus asks, and Connor can’t honestly think of anything he’d rather do.

They reach the far door when North yells after them. “If you end up needing a job,” she says, probably joking, but maybe not, “come see me.”

It’s possibly the first time they’ve ever been of a like mind, but Connor doesn’t think it’ll be the last.


End file.
